


When In Doubt (Wear Red)

by teaandcardigans



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, Light Angst, Macy - POV, Melonie 'Mel' Vera, Mutual Pining, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 20:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21464005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandcardigans/pseuds/teaandcardigans
Summary: Set between 1.22 and 2.01.A one shot about just how Macy knows that Harry is very fond of that ‘little red dress’.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 110





	When In Doubt (Wear Red)

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm jumping on the red dress theory bandwagon as well. Hope you enjoy this little snippet of what could be.

_ ‘Let's just pretend it never happened.’ _

That had been the agreement. And at the time it had seemed like the best solution. Macy had still been reeling from the after-effects of taking on the source, Galvin’s sacrifice and the new responsibilities that had been thrust upon the three sisters and their whitelighter. 

Delving further into the things that she had heard when Harry had placed his hand on her arm, was the kind of distraction that was not needed at this time and she had eagerly agreed to his proposal. 

But Macy was, and always would be a scientist. Her brain was unable to stop itself from wanting to know more, not content to let something just go. To pretend it never happened. 

Instead, she began to form her own hypotheses about what exactly she had seen and felt from her whitelighter’s touch. 

It had been overwhelming. His thoughts, feelings crashing over her like a tidal wave. His defences were down and they had come seeping through. The Source had not liked them. The sheer humanness of them. They were a distraction, a danger to her ultimate goal her mission and thus she had felt compelled to call them out and make them less. Inevitably doing the same to Harry.

When he had initially brushed off what she had heard, with the source still fresh in her mind she had assumed that it was out of embarrassment. That he had thought that his feelings were unrequited and her invasion of privacy had left him ashamed, and rightly so, an unkind voice reminded her, one that she pushed further down. 

But as the source’s power and influence ceased to course through her veins and she returned to herself more and more. Another hypothesis blossomed in her mind. One that did not seem too out of place. 

His feelings had changed. 

He had seen what she was capable of and those feelings that she had been so afraid of had been twisted and forgotten in his own mind. He had seen Charity morph into something that he could no longer feel for, it was the logical conclusion, that the same had happened for her. 

Maybe that was why she was so intent in cataloguing every look, every movement he made around her, towards her. She was gathering her evidence to support (or disprove) her theory. 

She noted each one. Each casual hand on her shoulder, or her forearm, acts of comfort that could easily put into the category of a friend or something more. The ways his eyes would soften and crinkle in the corners when he passed her her coffee in the morning. Made exactly the way she liked it. 

She looked for differences and the similarities to how he interacted with her compared to her sisters. If his hand lingered a little longer when he touched her in an act of comfort compared to Maggie. If the lines of his face changes when he smiled at her, in contrast to Mel. 

That was why she had started sketching him. For purely scientific purposes, nothing more. 

She tried not to linger too long on why the answer was so important to her. That she might want him to see her in a certain way. It was his motivations that she was interested in, not her own. 

“Macy.” 

Macy broke free from her thoughts at her sister’s voice. Maggie had her hands on her hips as she stood next to a rack of dresses, which just looking at filled Macy with a certain amount of dread.

Maggie shook her head, her eyes rolling, as she turned her attention back to the dresses. Rifling through the hangers to find something that would meet her approval. 

“I don’t even feel like going to this thing,” Macy muttered, as she pulled a dress from the rack, noted the short length, which would barely even cover her backside, before placing it back. 

“You’re going,” Maggie replied, as she pulled out a black dress, eyed Macy up and down before sighing and returning it to its place. 

“I mean I’m sure you guys need help with the dryads.”

Maggie continued her search, moving to another rack, while Macy trailed behind her, dragging her feet. 

“We have the dryads under control. And you have a schmoozy, black tie business event to attend,” she turned to face Macy, “Harry said-”

“I know, _ ‘we need to keep up appearances’ _” she recited. 

“Exactly,” Maggie chirped turning her attention back to the task at hand, “besides I’d much rather be eating Hors d'oeuvres and sipping on Champagne, than traipsing around the Hilltowne swamps with Harry and Mel.” 

“Maybe we could do a body swap?” Macy suggested a little hope in her voice. 

“Yeah, cause that worked so well last time.” 

Macy huffed in defeat, leaning back against a column as her eye caught sight of something. 

A flash of red. 

She moved towards the dress on display. Her fingers reaching out to skirt over the fabric and trail down the gold zip down the side. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Maggie spoke up from the side of her and Macy pulled her hand away.

“It’s not really my style,” Macy said, already moving away from the dress before she felt Maggie’s hand on her arm stopping her. 

“Anything is your style if you make it yours.” 

Macy met her sister’s eyes and wondered if she was ‘reading’ her. Picking up on every tiny little insecurity that was currently playing on her mind, “What about that burgundy one?”

“Macy, I’ve barely been able to get you to look at any of these dresses. This is the one.”

“It’s very… bold.”

“And you Dr Macy Vaughn are a bold woman,” Maggie lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “and a badass witch.”

Macy considered the dress again, her mind drifting to what a certain whitelighter may think, before chastising herself for even allowing the thought to enter her mind. 

“We’re not leaving until I try it on are we?”

Maggie gave a sugary sweet smile as she pulled down the dress and thrusted it towards Macy, “Not even if you tried to get Harry to orb you out.”

* * *

Macy examined herself in the mirror. The red dress had fit perfectly, and just as Maggie had said it had been the one. She should've known better than to second guess her younger sister’s flair for fashion. 

Her hand traced from her left shoulder, covered in the structured fabric, to her right, left bare intentionally by the design of the dress. The dress, though modest, clung to her body in an almost sinful way. But not in a way that exposed her, or made her feel insecure, in this dress she felt powerful. 

The gold zip down the side gleamed in the mirror as she turned to the side. Bracing one hand against her mirror as she slipped on the matching red shoes. 

She couldn’t help but feel that it was the demon side of her that appreciated this dress and the power it gave her. She couldn’t help but smile back at her own reflection. 

She gave a final smoothing down of her hair, ensuring it was secured in the equally structured bun at the back of her head. Satisfied she left her room and made her way down the stairs, to where Maggie, Mel and Harry were still preparing supplies and potions in the kitchen. 

Where she had been moments before Maggie had shooed her upstairs to get ready. Macy insisting that she should stay and help for just a little longer, practically pushed out of the kitchen by both of her sisters while Harry looked on. 

Maggie was the first to notice her standing in the archway to the kitchen, letting out a little squeal of excitement as she bounded over her sister, fawning over her. Complimenting on her dress _ of course _ , her hair and _ oh my gosh _, those shoes. Her excitement was almost contagious as Macy gave a little spin, much to her sister’s delight. 

“You look good Macy,” Mel said looking up briefly from her brew on the stovetop. 

Harry. 

Harry remained silent for a moment, a conical flask still in his hand, bubbling away containing some combination of botanical herbs and Campfire Ash. His eyes travelled down her body, before settling again on her face. This was a new look. Not one that she had catalogued in her research so far. 

There was an intensity in his eyes, that made her swallow, her skin growing hot and prickling on the surface. 

“Harry,” Maggie chided him, at his uncharacteristic silence. Macy watched him carefully as he composed himself, placing the flask back down on the bench. His eyes softening again into something more recognisable, more familiar, this she had seen before. 

“You look captivating Macy,” he said with a smile, ever the gentleman. 

“Oh, Harry,” Maggie jostled her shoulder against him in jest at his properness and the look slipped again. Too brief for either of her sisters to notice. But they hadn’t become as in tune to him as she had. All those sketches and notes falling into place so easily and a conclusion is drawn.

Harry Greenwood, really, _ really, _liked this dress. 

And just like that, her hypothesis is invalid and a new one is formed.


End file.
